


One ugly cat

by Toinette93



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Early Days, Gen, Pointless fluff, Short One Shot, friendhsip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:55:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27435439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toinette93/pseuds/Toinette93
Summary: A cat adopts Freddie. Then Freddie adopts the cat. Finally, the whole bands does, really.I dunno, I just wanted some fluff in my life.
Relationships: John Deacon & Brian May & Freddie Mercury & Roger Taylor
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	One ugly cat

There were noises, footsteps, a door being closed, conversation and laughter dying down. More to the point, there was something wet on his nose. Wet and a bit scratchy, while the rest of his face seemed to be quite warm with hair tickling on his jaw. He heard a very undignified giggle, a huff, and the distinct sound of Brian’s voice saying “Shh, you’re going to wake him up”, with the sound of restrained laughter bright in it. “We do have to wake him up at some point, though”, somebbody else, John, added. Had he been asleep? It seemed like it? Was he still asleep? He wasn’t entirely sure. The wet sensation was back on his nose and near his left eyelid, and his eyes fluttered opened.

His sight was met with a small, pink, barbed tongue, and as he moved his head back a bit he saw the triangular face of a visibly old cat, eyes lazily meeting his own. The animal gave a last lick and then sat back, with a smug air on its face. The cat was quite ugly. It was clear he had not had a good meal in a while, his fur was matted, and his eyes were asymetrical. Freddie already loved it. And he did not seem to have any collar. He was quite skinny, the poor thing. The singer sat up from the pile of cushions on the floor of the flat he shared with Roger, and where he had apparently dozed off in the time it had taken the drummer to go buy some cigarettes and pick up the two others from the tube station. It had been a long week, after all, and the ray of sunshine that graced their otherwise gloomy flat was warming up the place in a way that just sang of slumber.

Finishing to sit up, he offered his hand to the cat, who got nearer, and started to purr as soon as he started to pet it. He absolutely needed to start looking for a name. He turned to his friends. Brian had gone to put something in the fridge, John had perched himself on a stool and was looking at one of Roger’s textbook and the drummer had just finished taking off his shoes. Roger’s blue gaze was on Freddie for a second, and then he just said:

“No, Fred. We can’t.”

Freddie decided to magnanimously ignore the fit of giggle that was coming from the bassist on his stool. Deacy had the good taste of hiding it behind a book, at least.  And he had not even said anything. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to adopt the cat. Although, as the animal purred again, the small (very small) slither of doubt that had remained concerning that particular decision disappeared from the singer’s mind. And what did Roger mean, “we can’t”. Of course they could. Indeed they had to! They were not going to abandon an old cat to fend for itself in the streets! It could die, the poor  dear . Freddie’s idignant replie was interrupted before it could begin by  Brian’s voice asking from the kitchen: 

“Where do you put you plates, again?”

“Top shelf on the cupboard on your right, dear.”

“Fixing yourself a sandwhich, Brian?” asked John.

“Sandwich?” asked Brian, voice slightly confused, then a few seconds later as he appeared from the kitchen, holding a small plate full of tuna “Oh, that’s not for me”, He carefully placed the plate on the ground, not far from the cat. The animal lazily moved away from under Freddie’s hand and made his way to the place, and after sniffing at it suspiciously for a few seconds, started eating.

“Brian, it’s my dinner you just gave that cat!” said Roger. 

“Yes, and it barely met its approval” added John, smiling.

“Roger, you know we could not let it starve, the poor dear.”

“What about if I starve?” grumbled the blond drummer.

“We wouldn’t let you starve either, Rog.” commented an annoyed Brian, though it was clear he also meant that. They all did really, and whoever had money at any given time had oftened paid a meal for whomever the dreaded end of month had come. He had started to get papers form his bag – they were here to look at set-lists for their next few concerts after all - and when he got his head back up, he could tell Roger’s reluctance was ebbing away. The cat was done eating, and was on the sofa beween Roger and Freddie who were both petting it. John had gone to clean the plate and was coming back with some water for the animal. He put it down, shrugged, and nudged Roger away to sit between the other two on the couch. The cat had won him over too.

Despite the wealth of attention sent his way, the feline still favoured his first encounter, and stayed on the armrest next to Freddie where he soon fell asleep, filling the singer with deligh – which he expressed in whispered tone as to not wake up the cat. It was uneeded, it was old, and given his lack of reaction at Brian and Roger’s various arguments, probably deaf. By the end of the afternooon the songs had been selected and only a few minor – albeit loud – disagreements remained on the order in which they should be played. It had also been determined that the cat was a male. An argument had been had concerning whether or not it should be neutered. The fact that they did not have any money to pay for such an operation had apparently not stopped the arguing. They had not yet found a name for the animal, and if band-naming trends were to be followed, that might still be a while. For the time being it was “the cat”, and that would have to do for now. John had made a temporary bed for it, and Brian had promised to come back the next day with some cat litter. That night, the cat slept on Freddie’s bed, the singer promising it the biggest home and the best fish when they were rich and famous. Falling asleep with a paw next to himself, Freddie caught himself hoping that the cat would enjoy their songs.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there,  
> Hoped you enjoyed this pointless little thing ! I know it's not my best, but I just lost the longer fic I was writing because my computer met its untimely end at the hand of a glass of water and I still wanted to post a little something in this fandom.  
> Come talk to me in the comment, and have a nice day.  
> Take care people,  
> Toinette


End file.
